out.
I was supposed to be coy. Play it cool. Not let on that I felt too much so soon. But my heart was already hanging on my sleeve, and there was no sense trying to put it away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning, I stared at my cellphone and chewed on my lower lip. I stood on the moving sidewalk, trying to compose the perfect text message that was both charming and nonchalant, thoughtful without looking like I was trying too hard. But everything I’d come up with so far was coming across as too clingy.
I scrutinized my most recent construction: Good morning, beautiful.
It was morning. And Anissa was beautiful. Both statements were facts. But was it too forceful? Too coupley? She’d said she wanted to see me again, not move in together.
I looked up from my phone when I reached the end of the moving sidewalk. Gemma was waiting for me, two cardboard cups of coffee in her expectant hands. I pocketed my phone for the moment without sending the over-analyzed text.
“Good morning!” Gemma beamed. She pressed one of the black coffees into my outstretched hand like a relay team passing their baton to the next runner.
I popped off the plastic cover and inhaled the coffee’s rich aroma. “You’re an angel,” I hummed in approval.
“Late night?” she asked. We started to walk in step with one another in the direction of our Monday morning gates. My flight to Seattle happened to be right next to her gate to San Francisco.
“Actually, I got to bed pretty early,” I admitted.
Gemma grinned and gave me a knowing look. “Oh, I bet you did.”
Her reaction made me laugh. “Nothing like that. Just a long, busy weekend.”
“Oh yeah? What did you do?”
“On Saturday, Anissa and I went to the baseball game and we ate pizza at my apartment afterwards.”
“That sounds dreamy,” Gemma sighed wistfully. “I wish I was a lesbian.”
“It’s never too late,” I winked. “We’re always accepting applications.”
“Did you see her yesterday, too?” she asked.
I nodded. “We went to Bloomfield Hills for my niece’s piano recital.”
“She met your family?” Gemma squeaked.
“Just my sister and her brood.” I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, even though it actually was. Very few women I’d dated had made it that far.
Our bodies instinctively veered towards the women’s bathroom closest to our gates. I hated nothing more than having to use the bathroom mid-flight. Not only did I dislike the claustrophobic space, but the moment I locked the bathroom door behind me was inevitably the moment someone pressed the Call button to request my assistance.
“She’s met the family, but when do I get to meet this amazing woman?” Gemma pressed. “I know you’ve said I saw her on a jet bridge in Philadelphia, but I don’t remember that so it doesn’t count.”
“I don’t want to scare her away,” I laughed. “I barely got her to agree to go out with me.”
“What if you casually pointed her out to me on a flight?” Gemma suggested. “I can play it cool.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No offense, but subtlety isn’t exactly your strength. Remember that pilot you had a crush on? What was his name?”
“Desmond,” she sighed. “Don’t remind me. I’ve never fake laughed at so many dad jokes in my life.”
Because of the early hour, the women’s bathroom was relatively empty. We entered separate stalls that were close to each other.
“Tell me I need my head examined if I ever suggest dating a pilot again,” I heard Gemma’s voice.
Gemma was a notorious bathroom talker. She continued her conversations from her stall instead of waiting until we’d finished in the bathroom. I typically only responded to her comments with noncommittal hums.
“I can’t believe your luck,” she continued from the next stall over. “You get a girlfriend, and you’re going to win at bingo.”
I winced when Gemma said the words aloud. I didn’t consider myself superstitious—especially not in comparison with some of the people I’d flown with before—but I didn’t want to jinx anything. Despite an almost-conversation about if we were exclusive, Anissa wasn’t my girlfriend yet. And I hadn’t finished the bingo card yet either.
“I was really skeptical about the game at first, but now that you’re so close to winning, I’m actually getting excited,” Gemma continued. “Like, I’m probably more excited than you!”
I didn’t really participate in the conversation. Not only did I feel weird about hollering my business in a public restroom, but I also hadn’t been focused on completing my bingo card as of late. Instead,